


Let the Music Do the Talking

by nekkie



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: "bad boy" jean, F/M, M/M, Underage Drinking, lame band names, no theyre both nerds, shitty band au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-05 17:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekkie/pseuds/nekkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He shouldn’t look hot; sweating with his weird-ass haircut and his multitude of piercings while scrunching up his face as he hit the higher notes, but he does and Marco thinks that’s kind of unfair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He was being shoved roughly against bodies and the heat emanating off them was stifling, the cheers deafening. His heart thumped in his chest what felt like a million beats per second as the atmosphere grew steadily more intense, more exciting. It was a high he didn’t want to come off of and the sight in front of him was one Marco never wanted to forget.

Neon lights bounced off the walls as they roamed through the audience, but what captured everyone’s attention was where the spotlight was shone. On stage was a rock band, whose name Marco forgets in the moment for he’s completely immersed himself in the lead singer’s voice. It wasn’t smooth or silky like what he typically heard in the music industry – but instead deep and perhaps a little raspy but it was unique and wonderful and it captivated everyone for the screams had died down. Or maybe Marco had just muted everything else around him to a soft buzz.

He doesn’t know the name attached to the voice but he’s staring up at the face right now and God must’ve carved it Himself. Everything’s sharp and defined like an artist had tried to perfect every small detail. His cheekbones, his jaw – strong and prominent; his eyes kind of pointed and on the smaller side and it all shouldn’t work but it does. Light reflects off the metal on his face, one sitting on a thin eyebrow and two as snakebites under his lip and Marco’s almost sure he caught a glimpse of another sitting on the singer’s tongue when he opens his mouth to belt out the chorus. His hair’s dark and shaved close at the bottom with a sudden shift to shaggy and light at the top. It’s strange and it would’ve been classified as unattractive on anyone else, but this guy seemed to make Marco think over everything in his list of what were and weren’t attractive.

He shouldn’t look hot; sweating with his weird-ass haircut and his multitude of piercings while scrunching up his face as he hit the higher notes, but he does and Marco thinks that’s kind of unfair.

Which is why, when the song came to an end, the screams died down, and a break was announced, the first thing he did was turn to Armin beside him and ask for the lead singer’s name.

“Jean Kirschtein,” Armin answers with a knowing smile and Marco tries to play off his red cheeks as exertion from jumping up and down, “the lead singer and guitarist too. He’s labelled as the bad boy of the group. Though if you ask me, he’s the dork. The other two are Connie, the drummer, and Sasha, who’s pretty flexible when it comes to instruments.”

Marco hums in response, the DJ’s music drowning him out. He can feel the steady beat of the bass in his chest and he thinks that maybe, just for tonight, he can let loose a little. Once the two of them are seated at the bar, each with a drink in a hand, Armin speaks up again.  
“We were friends in high school, Jean and I. He moved away during junior year, but we never lost touch. That’s how I received the after-party invites,” Armin sips at his colourful concoction as Marco quirks an eyebrow in curiosity.

“What was he like in high school?”

“Honestly, I don’t think he’s changed much. You’ll see the kind of guy he is later on. He doesn’t get along with many, but I think you can handle him.”

“Mm? How so?”

“Marco, you’re seen as a saint on campus – it’s incredibly difficult not to like you. But aside from that, your personalities just mesh well,” a shrug dismisses the subject along with a: “just a feeling I get.”

The conversation ends there due to the fact neither could be bothered to yell over the music anymore, instead opting to drink and lose themselves in their own thoughts.

Of course, Jean Kirschtein solely occupied Marco’s thoughts. The idea that he would be meeting him and speaking to him made his palms sweaty as he reaches for his second drink because god, he wasn’t tipsy enough yet if he was feeling this nervous. Scenarios play out in his head about how maybe they’ll exchange numbers, go on a few dates, and soon enough Marco’s got their whole life story running through his head and he has to stop himself because, dude, that’s kind of pretty fucking weird.

Thankfully, as he drains the last drop of liquid from his glass, the ear-shattering sound of microphone feedback rings out. He turns toward the stage to see the band back on. Jean holds the microphone in one hand and the neck of a guitar in the other as he yells, “Twin Blades is back and you guys better be ready to rock!”  
The line is cheesy and lame, but Marco cheers just as enthusiastically as the rest and he feels his shoulders relax and his body unwind, listening to Jean’s voice and watching Jean perform. Damn, and he hasn’t even met the guy yet.

\----

Time flies and before he knows it, the band’s done for the night.

“Thanks for listening, guys,” Jean breathes heavily into the mic, sweat dripping down his forehead, “we’ll be selling tickets for Twin Blades’ first ever tour soon so look forward to that!” Excited cheers erupted through the club.

“You guys were awesome!” Sasha beams down at them and the drummer yells in agreement, throwing his fist up in the air. All three are grinning and Marco feels himself appreciating their obvious love for what they do.  
The stage goes dark and the DJ across the room starts an infectious beat that has the whole nightclub dancing again. Fingers wrap around Marco’s wrist and Armin’s dragging him towards the stage.

“Let’s go say hi,” he explains and Marco lets himself be led to what feels like the most nerve-wracking moment of his life. How should he greet Jean? A simple “hey”? A “congratulations”? Maybe a “job well done”. Oh god, should he shake hands? Marco subconsciously wipes his free palm on his dark jeans. Or would that be too formal and just plain weird?

Suddenly, Armin’s calling for Jean and Jean’s face pops into view from behind an open guitar case. Darn it, now he doesn’t even have time to panic.

“Yo, Armin,” Jean waves them over. “Nice to see you could make it. Extra nice that Jaeger’s not here in place of this guy.” Suddenly, those amber eyes are directed at him and staring at Marco expectantly.

“I’m Marco,” he manages without stuttering, finally taking the hint. He’s thankful that Jean’s hands were busy storing away his guitar so the previous hand-shaking crisis was averted.

“Jean,” the singer nods in greeting, “but you probably already knew that.” An arrogant smirk stretches across an equally arrogant face that makes Marco blush redder than his first dance. He hopes it’s not visible in the dim lighting.

Just as Marco starts worrying about how to make conversation, someone jumps out from behind, thumping Jean on the back.

“We got a limoooo!” Connie sings out as he skips out the back door. “Hurry up before Sasha drinks all the champagne!” He calls back just as loud footsteps echoes through the area and Sasha comes barrelling in, whooping like Connie. They both start chanting “limo” and their voices fade as the door closes behind them.

“A limo, huh? Fancy for someone who used to drive a beaten up soccer-mom van in high school,” Armin quips.

“Shut up, bowl-head. Our manager, Hanji, is more than a little nuts and likes to go all out. But it’s not like I’m gonna complain about a limo - it’s actually pretty sweet. You wanna check it out and catch a ride to the party?”

“As much as I want to sit in a car with you three spilling champagne everywhere, I’ll have to pass. I drove my own car here and I’m not about to leave it in the parking lot overnight.”

“What about you?”  
“H-hah?” Marco startles, shocked to have the attention suddenly diverted to him while he was busy admiring Jean up close.

“Wanna arrive to the party in style or ride with that nerd?”

He hears Armin mutter something in defense of his car and Marco hesitates for a second. He barely even knows Jean but if riding in a limo with him didn’t sound appealing then he’s not sure what does. “Well, the last time I was in a limo was senior prom…”

Jean scoffs and Marco’s delighted to see he was right about the tongue piercing. “Trust me, this one will be way better.” He lays a hand on Marco’s back and starts pushing him towards the exit, calling over his shoulder, “Hey Armin, I’m stealing your buddy Marco for the night.”

Armin only laughs and waves, while Marco decides he really likes the way Jean says his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was hella short but yeah?? i have a lot planned for this fic (kinda) but i haven't written fanfiction in a loooong time. like since middle school probably. so bear with me but feedback is welcomed!!
> 
> (psst : my tumblr is http://ka-kiwi.tumblr.com if u wanna talk and come friends or smth hahaahah)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> deep limo discussions and woah arrival of the teen titans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting this with half of it unbeta'd hahhahaah you can probably tell which half whoops btw the ages in this story   
> marco, annie, reiner, bertl, armin-21 made armin 21 cuz he was drinkin at a night club lets say he has an early bday or smth since he DID go to highschool with jean  
> jean, connie, sasha-20

_Pop._ Marco hears the sound of a champagne bottle opening as he enters the limousine. Sasha and Connie are seated and laughing across from where he slides in, Jean following suit. At the sight of Marco, Sasha and Connie glance at each other before shrugging and introducing themselves happily and Marco does the same, feeling a little less awkward. Just a little.

“Pour it up!” Connie exclaims as Sasha fills four champagne flutes and hands them out. Marco accepts his with a shy thanks. 

“Cheers to a fucking fabulous performance as Twin Blades’ first debut!” Sasha raises her glass and everyone knocks theirs together in the center before promptly taking a sip. Marco settles in deeper into the leather seat and tries to relax, switching his drink from hand to hand. Sasha and Connie’s enthusiastic chatter drowns out the quiet pop music playing in the car.

“Aren’t you gonna drink up?” Jean suddenly leans over and clinks his glass softly against Marcos. “This stuff ain’t cheap, y’know.” 

“I don’t think you’re even of age,” Marco rolls his eyes, tilting the contents into his mouth nonetheless. Jean snorts, not denying the assumption.

“As if anyone still cares after going through highschool.”

“You partied a lot?”

“You could say that.”

Connie, who seems to have caught the tail end of the conversation bursts into laughter. “Jean? Partying? The drunkest he got in high school was probably alone in his room after just two cans of stolen beer!”

“S-shut up, Connie!” Jean covers a part of his face with his hand and looks away. Marco giggles along with everyone, noticing the red tips of Jean’s ears. 

“It’s okay,” he tries to comfort Jean. “I’m kind of a light weight too.” It’s a lie, but hey, whatever makes him happy.

“I’m not a light weight! Connie’s just full of bullshit!” 

“Like hell I am! Remember when you dropped down on your knee and proposed to Mikasa not even a full hour into Ymir’s party during junior year?”

Sasha gasps. “I remember that!”

“Guys!” Jean protests loudly and tries to down the rest of his drink, choking on it halfway through. This only causes everyone else to laugh harder, including Marco who feels kind of bad for the guy and rubs Jean’s back until the coughs stop.

“Thanks….”

Marco smiles and feels his nervousness disappear. “Don’t mention it.”

The rest of the ride consisted of the same teasing back and forth and Marco finds the three surprisingly easy to get along with. They were borderline celebrities and he was – well – not, but everyone was relaxed and he realized they would be no different even if they were ordinary university students like him. 

After a while, Marco starts noticing little things about Connie and Sasha across from him. The way their fingers would slowly creep closer to each other and intertwine, the way they would steal glances at each other and smile affectionately if their eyes met. It’s like watching a romance movie. He feels happy for them, but he can’t help the rising bitterness of jealousy. He wonders if the previously mentioned Mikasa had a thing with Jean. It sure sounded like Jean was smitten. He knows Mikasa’s pretty, they’ve spoken briefly before, with her being Armin’s friend, and she didn’t seem like a bad person at all. Trying to brush it off, he looks away. 

“They’ve been a thing for only a month, but it’s been a long time coming,” Jean’s voice is lowered so only Marco can hear, but it seems the other two were far too engrossed in each other to pay attention anyway. 

“They’re cute.”

“Guess so, but being a permanent third wheel sure isn’t.”

Marco glances over, a little taken back, “You don’t have anyone?” He tries to make it sound not too suspicious, as if he was coming onto Jean or anything. Well, maybe he was a little, but the art of subtly is important. 

“Nah.” It’s short and abrupt, indicating Jean doesn’t want to dig any deeper into the subject. But Marco’s curious and feigns ignorance. 

“Mikasa?”

“Naaaaah,” this time it’s drawn out and nasally. Jean crosses his arms over his chest and slumps in his seat. “Thing of the past. I got really desperate and she gave me a chance, but it didn’t work out. Lasted hardly a week. Don’t wanna talk about it.” He looks like a child and Marco swallows back a chuckle. 

“If it helps, I don’t have anyone either.”

Jean perks up, eyebrows raised. “No?”

“Is it that surprising?”

“Well, I don’t know. You got that boy-next-door thing going on for you, don’t ya? I can tell just by that dorky ass hairstyle.” Marco subconsciously pats down his hair, frowning and Jean splutters. “Dude, no, shit, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I mean, don’t chicks dig that?”

Marco shrugs. “They’re usually happier being just friends after a while. Guess we both still have to find that special someone.”

Jean grunts, “that sounded cheesy as fuck.”

He elbows Jean in the ribs, earning a yelp in response.

 

When the limo pulls up in front of a prestigious hotel, Marco’s a bit surprised and he doesn’t bother to hide it. 

“You weren’t expecting something like a frat party, were you?” Jean mumbles behind him, climbing out of the vehicle. 

“This kinda stuff is actually reeaaaally boring,” Sasha chimes in. “They cover it up as an after-party by inviting a bunch of celebrities to talk and dance and stuff, but there’s a lot of reporters and others mixed in too.”

Connie nods, “we can’t let ourselves loose here, man. We gotta keep up our image for the press and give good first impressions to other people, blah blah so we can worm our way up in this world.” 

Marco furrows his brows, wondering what he was doing here if that was the case and Jean speaks up, as if sensing his confusion.

“Sometimes inviting normal people like you and Armin is the only way to keep my sanity.”

At the mention of Armin, Marco’s phone vibrates in his pocket. 

**From: Armin Arlert**  
How was the limo? 

**To: Armin Arlert**  
It was awesome!! :) 

**From: Armin Arlert**  
Guess my car just can’t compare. Anyway, I’m waiting in the parking lot if you can meet up with me. Feel free to bring Jean.

Marco stares at the last sentence. He hadn’t even mentioned Jean in his text, so what was that supposed to mean? Armin probably just wants to see Jean because they were old friends. Yeah, of course. He tucks his phone away. 

“That was Armin. He wants us to go meet him in the parking lot.” Jean nods.

“Yeah, sure. Connie, Sasha, you guys can go in first, I’ll bring these two in soon.” 

Connie holds out his arm for Sasha, “Are you ready, mi’lady?” His voice drops an octave and he waggles his eyebrows.

She links his arms with his. “Born ready!” The two march off, laughing hysterically.

“Well, let’s go,” Jean’s voice draws Marco’s attention away from the retreating pair. Marco hums in agreement and the two set off in the direction of the parking lot where they round up Armin, who asks about the guests to the party. Jean starts rattling off names, sounding less and less excited as the list goes on.

“The Titans are even gonna be there,” he scowls deeply. 

“Your rival band.” It’s a statement, not a question and Armin’s voice sounds sympathetic.

“Yeah, I don’t even know what Erwin’s trying to pull anymore. I just wanna get in and get out in one piece.”

“Well, we’ll help,” Marco says cheerfully. “I think it’ll be a neat experience for us.”

“You might regret those words,” Jean grumbles out as a man opens the door for them with a word of welcome. Jean breezes right past while Marco and Armin thank the guy.

Marco jumps as a woman comes charging in on them, wailing Jean’s name and latching onto him. She demands where he’s been as Jean wriggles violently in her grasp. 

“Hanji, get off!” He finally succeeds in shoving her off of him, knocking Hanji’s glasses to the floor in the process. She scrambles after them, continuing to chastise Jean.

“I was so worried! You didn’t arrive with Connie and Sasha and when I asked them, they said you’d picked up a hooker and ran away!” She wipes the glasses furiously before setting them back on her face. “Everyone’s been dying to meet you. They’re all waiting at the party.”

“Chill, I’m here now, aren’t I?” Jean rolls his eyes. “And jesus fuck, I just went to meet up with friends. You know not to believe every word those two morons say.”

“Friends?” Hanji swivels her head around until her gaze lands on the two that’d been standing awkwardly in the background the whole time. “Yes, of course! You mentioned inviting two guests here.” She sticks her hand out. “I’m Hanji Zoe, manager for Twin Blades.” 

“Marco Bodt,” he shakes her hand briefly and Armin does the same after introducing himself.

“Well, follow me, the party’s right around there. Don’t get intimidated by this place, its completely casual!” Hanji bounces on her feet at she leads the group down a hallway. Despite her reassurance, Marco gulps nervously, feeling out of place among his luxurious surroundings. Chandeliers hang above them and every inch of the space is ornately decorated. He thinks it’s overdone with the gold and pristine white colour palette. 

Hanji is whispering furiously to Jean up ahead and a camera shutter noise beside him indicates Armin’s snapchatting Eren what he’s missing out on. Suddenly, Armin’s foot lashes out and kicks Jean’s ankle in front of him, causing the latter to swear in pain and hop around on one foot

“Ow ow ow, what the hell was that for?” 

Armin sighs, “it’s from Eren.” He holds out his phone, quickly showing Eren making a silly face with the words ‘ **hurt jean 4 me** ’ before it disappears. 

“And you actually listened to him?!” Jean snatches the phone away, taking a picture of himself flipping it off and returns it after. “Fuckin’ Jaeger.” 

“Are you okay?” Marco manages in between giggles. 

“Fine. Armin’s got a weak kick.”

“I went easy on you.”

“Here we are!” Hanji’s cheerful announcement interrupts. A bouncer manning the door allows them access without a word, seeming to recognize Hanji. 

Upon entering the room, the scene in front of him is a lot more ordinary than Marco had expected. There’s music from a DJ and people wandering about, holding conversation as well as a few actually dancing. Looking closer, there are a lot of faces he sees in magazines or on TV. He ponders for a bit before deciding it would be rather awkward to ask them to sign something, given the fact 90% of the people here would be on the giving end of the whole autograph thing rather than the receiving end. Refreshments are lined up on a table against a wall and sure, the selection seems a little fancier than what he was used to, but it’s not like he was expecting cheap beer and chips. 

But here and there, he does spot the occasional camera flash or men and women dressed in suits and he’s aware the atmosphere is completely different from the nightclub they were at just a while ago. 

“Have fun!” Hanji starts walking away, right after patting Jean on the head. “Don’t forget to mingle, you need it. You should also tone down on the hair gel.”

Jean fixes his hair and it looks like he’s about to retort, but Hanji’s already disappeared. 

“It does look a little too spiky,” Marco comments.

“Shut up, Marco. Let’s just go find Connie and Sasha.”

Armin points at a group lounging around on couches, “I think that’s them.”

“You’re shitting with me. I can’t believe they’re talking to those guys of all people,” Jean groans as they make their way over and Marco examines who he’s talking about. 

They’re the band “The Titans” Armin and Jean had mentioned in the parking lot, even Marco knew this. They’d dominated the top charts for the past two weeks with their hit single “Wall of Maria” and Eren had taken every chance to complain about how annoying he found the song. The lead vocalist, Annie is the only one standing in the group, looking awfully bored at whatever Connie’s saying. Reiner, on the other hand, laughs boisterously as Bertholdt on his side just smiles, looking extremely nervous. 

“They don’t look too bad,” Marco thinks aloud.

“They’re not.”

“Don’t listen to Armin, the Titans are still our fucking rivals.” Jean makes a noise of annoyance just as Reiner notices them approaching and waves.

“Yo Jean! You finished a lot quicker with the hooker than I would’ve thought,” the blonde’s laughter just grows louder at his own joke.

Jean mockingly laughs along, “Fucking hilarious, Reiner. Nice to see you too. Guys, this is Marco and you already know Armin.” 

Annie’s eyes scan over Marco, causing him to shift his weight uncomfortably, before she responds with a simple, monotonous: “Annie.” On the other hand, Bertholdt is able to stutter out a “nice to meet you”. 

“And I’m Reiner. Are you the whore Jean picked up?” He grins as if he’s said nothing out of the ordinary.

Marco’s eyes widened, stunned. “E-excuse me?”

“Cut it out, dude,” Jean glares at Reiner as he takes a seat. “He’s Armin’s friend from U of T.” 

“H-he’s just kidding around, right Annie?” Bertholdt glances over at her for help before things get too hostile.

“Yeah, whatever.” She replies offhandedly before returning to the conversation she was having with Armin.

“Hey, let’s drink!” Sasha lifts beer cans up in the air for grabs, successfully shifting the topic. Marco takes his and plops down beside Jean, who tilts his head back for a long swig.

“It’s gonna be a long night,” he mutters under his breath and Marco couldn’t agree more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> U of T obviously stands for University of Trost lmao but when i was rereading i mistook it myself for University of Toronto omg im dumb
> 
> i feel like?? this chapter really sucked?? because yeah this part is like the gap i have in plot points when i laid this story out. this chapter and the next are both like this where im probably just gonna dump a lot of information in or smth about this whole shitty au im sorry
> 
> hope u enjoyed anyway??


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> u'll want mcdonalds after this is a warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EXACTLY FIVE MONTHS AFTER I APOLOGIZE i just finished it its 12am exactly and im putting it up hopefully its not shit

By now, they’ve long abandoned the Titans and Armin had left upon request from Mikasa to help her get Eren out of trouble. He didn’t have time to explain, but this wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence, so Marco wasn’t too curious on the matter. Looking back, he really should’ve joined Armin on his trip back to campus, but the subtle signals Jean had made to imply “don’t leave me” was too hard to ignore. Marco curses his own friendliness and general mother hen instincts.

Currently, they’re standing across from a pair of journalists by the names of Ilse and Hitch, the latter seeming more interested in getting a rise out of Jean than any real information.

“Okay, so Jeen-“

“It’s _Jean_ , you-“

“Whatever, Jeen. As I was saying, I want to congratulate you on your first official show! It was so good,” her voice oozes phoniness and Marco’s withholds himself from rolling his eyes.

“Heh, yeah it was pretty damn great,” Jean smiles smugly, but Hitch doesn’t seem to be even listening as she sticks a finger in his face as she yells,

“But! Was it good enough?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The other woman, Ilse, finally butts in. “Twin Blades is currently signed with the Survey Corps, best known for their work with the band Wings of Freedom-“

“I _know_ all this, so what’s your point?”

“Wings of Freedom has landed on the top 20 charts consecutively ever since their debut with very little breaks in between. Are you really sure you can live up to that?”

“Twin Blades doesn’t need to live up to anything, we’re our own band and we’re gonna do whatever the fuck it is we do no matter what.” Jean’s a little too aggressive and Marco starts feeling worried. This isn’t going to look good on paper.

“Come on, Jean,” for once, Hitch says his name right as her tone takes on a more serious manner. “We all know Wings of Freedom is getting a little old for their main fanbase, especially their leader Levi – even if he doesn’t look it. As the leader of Twin Blades, you gotta make sure your band doesn’t run the Survey Corp’s success down the dumps.”

“What makes you think I’m the leader here? Or that I even care about any of this? I started this because I wanted to make music and that hasn’t changed.”

“Oh, you’re not the leader? Is it airhead baldie over there? Or maybe little miss piggy stuffing her face beside him?” Marco sees Jean bristle at her comments and admittedly, he himself is getting incredibly irritated, but before either could say anything, Ilse places a hand firmly on Hitch’s shoulder.

“Hitch, this is completely off topic and inappropriate-“

“Damn right it is!” Jean explodes, “I don’t have to deal with any of this shit, I’m leaving!” He grabs at Marco’s arm violently and stomps off, leaving the two journalists protesting behind them. The grip Jean has on his arm is incredibly tight, causing Marco to wince as he tries to catch the other’s attention because he just really wants to get back to his dorm.

“H-hey Jean,” he stammers. No response.

“Jean…”

Nothing.

“Jean!”

Still nothing and the exit’s getting closer and closer. Forcefully, Marco yanks back his arm and stands still, “Gosh darnit, Jean, you’re gonna tell me where we’re going right now so I can decide if it’s even worth my time, since I totally could be laying in bed, under about 5 blankets, only in my boxers if I leave right now and be hell of a lot more comfortable than I’ve been this whole party!”

Jean gapes at him and Marco continues scowling until sudden laughter erupts from the singer. “Holy shit, seeing you angry is hilarious! It doesn’t suit you at all, man, calm down. We’re just gonna go get something to eat, okay? I’m starving.”

In response, Marco gives an exasperated smile, “there’s something called a refreshment table here, Jean, is all this really necessary?”

“Yeah, well, don’t question it, you hardass, just come.”

“I’m not a hardass…”

“Say that to the stick up your-“

“Jean!”

Laughing, the two successfully make their way out of the hotel and Jean waves down a cab for them both. After they’ve both settled down and Jean’s murmured a destination to the driver, Marco peers over at this guy who he’s only met today, yet they’re sneaking out of official business and grabbing a bite together.

His life up ‘til this point has been rather dull and it all seems a little unreal, added in with the fact that yeah, Marco’s previous observations were correct:

Jean is extremely attractive.

"Isn’t Hanji going to be mad at you for skipping out?”

“Furious. But it’s cool, I can handle her.”

“Hm… So, where are we eating?”

“You’ll see.”

 

\----

 

“McDonalds? Really, Jean?”

Marco steps into the restaurant with Jean, not even bothering to hide the fact that, holy fuck, he’s so disappointed. Here he was, thinking after months of living on this exact fast food and various microwavable meals, he would actually get decent food for the first time.

“What’d you expect?”

“Well, let’s see. So far today, you’ve taken me to a five star hotel in a limo, so I don’t think I’m completely to blame for thinking I was getting some food of higher quality than fucking _McDonalds_ when you said we were getting something to eat.”

Jean shrugs him off and glances around as they walk up to the register. The place was practically empty, with only the few students here and there tapping furiously away at their laptops, too immersed in their work to look up. Marco watches his companion’s shoulders relax visibly before rattling off his order to the girl behind the counter.

“That’ll be eighteen dollars.”

“Yeah, hold on,” as Jean fumbles for his wallet; Marco looks over to see the girl blatantly staring at Jean’s face and he gets a feeling this wouldn’t turn out well.

“Hey, I know you…!”

Jean freezes for a second, before plucking out several crumpled bills. “No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I totally recognize you! Twin Blades, right?”

Jean just waves the money around. “Yeah, sure. Can I pay for my food now?”

Chattering off excitedly, the cashier slowly starts counting up his change. “My friend loves you! She went at the club you guys were playing at today, did you see her? Do you think I could get your autograph, like even just on a napkin or something for her? Come on, pleaaaseee?”

Jean sighs and Marco nudges him, encouraging him to just sign a napkin for the cheerful girl. She was also attracting attention from the people seated near them and Marco wanted to avoid making a scene.

“Fine, you got a pen?”

She squeals in joy before rushing off to repeat his order to someone and returning with a napkin in one hand and a pen in the other. “Oh man, she’s gonna love this so much, thanks!”

“No problem,” Jean scrawls his name across the napkin, trying to cover up the fact he’d torn a part of it with the point of the pen. He holds it out for her and she exchanges it with his order.

“Enjoy your food!”

Marco’s arm is suddenly grabbed once again and he thinks he should voice that, hey Jean, he can walk by himself, but he finds he doesn’t mind the physical contact that much.

What he does mind is his empty stomach.

“Jean, uh, I haven’t ordered yet!”

“You think I’m gonna eat eighteen dollars worth of Mcdonalds by myself? I got you covered. ‘Least I could do for not taking you to some five star restaurant, right?”

Marco smiles because hey, this tattooed, pierced, cool punk guy is actually pretty thoughtful. “Oh, thanks! I still would’ve preferred the fancy schmancy restaurant, to be honest. Why so insistent on McDonalds anyway?”

Jean groans in response. “Dude, I haven’t had it in ages. Sasha’s a health nut when it comes to food. Sure, she doesn’t look it ‘cause she consumes as much as a fucking whale, but what she cares about is _what_ she’s eating.”

Chuckling, Marco stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket, vaguely wondering where they were going. He’d gotten the message that Jean didn’t want to stay back at the restaurant, but they were without a car and it was getting late.

“It’s so hard living with that,” Jean continues on, “she goes on about the natural taste of food and how real meat is essential, not whatever McDonalds serves. The craving for fast food has been killing me for weeks.”

“She sounds like a really cool person to be around.”

“She’s a fucking loser, so’s Connie.” Jean snorts, but the fondness in his voice is obvious.

 

They arrive at a park and Jean immediately heads for one of the picnic benches. The place is completely empty and everything still except for the street lamp flickering above them. Marco watches his breath float out in the chilly night air and settles down across from his companion, who’s already tearing away at a Big Mac.

Marco approaches his burger with a much more civilized manner and takes a bite, appreciating having something warm in his system. Despite that, he shivers and Jean glances up at him apologetically.

“Sorry ‘bout it being cold. I just usually like eating outside and stuff. Didn’t think about asking if it was okay with you, sorry.”

Marco grins at him, showing him he didn’t have to worry it and instead says playfully, “tsk, don’t speak with you mouth full.”

“Shut up, mom.” Jean rolls his eyes and resumes eating, Marco doing the same.

Silence descends upon them for a few minutes, but Marco doesn’t mind because it’s a comfortable kind of quiet. He finishes and gathers up his wrappers, glancing over to see Jean sucking on a ketchup packet.

“What?”

Marco makes a face, as if he could taste the sour and mushy texture. “That’s just disgusting.”

“Your face is disgusting,” Jean shoots back immediately and Marco can’t help but laugh at the immature comeback, throwing his wrapper at Jean, who quickly bats it away.

“Hey! I’m kidding, I’m kidding. It’s… kinda cute, actually,” the latter part’s mumbled out with his mouth around the ketchup packet and Marco blushes at the words, choosing to pick up the fallen trash instead. Across from him, Jean coughs awkwardly, “I-I mean… Uh… Freckles are cute? You know, ragdolls and shit, that’s cute right? Not saying you look like a ragdoll or anythin’, I mean-“

“It’s cool, Jean. Calm down, I appreciate the compliment, really.” More than just plain appreciate, because Marco’s really jumping for joy all over his mind.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re welcome. Cool… Hey, you’re not gonna call me cute back?”

“You’re adorable, Jean.”

 “I know.”

They sit for a while, staring at their hands, the table, the pile of empty ketchup packets, before Jean speaks up again.

“I don’t really want to go back just yet.”

Marco shrugs, “then let’s not. The stars are pretty to look at.”

Jean cranes his neck to look up. “There are barely any of them out in the city.”

“That makes the few rare ones all the more beautiful, right?”

“That’s some deep shit.”

“Thanks.”

Marco watches Jean chuckle up at the sky and he thinks about how warm he feels despite the cold night wind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> school kicked my butt omg but hopefully i'll be more on track with this whole fic writing thing *nervous sweating* hope u enjoyed!


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